


Capriciousness

by yuletide_archivist



Category: American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-24
Updated: 2006-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Deifire</p>
    </blockquote>





	Capriciousness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Deifire

 

 

The new land was strange. It was colder, and bigger, and the air smelled like grass and not like sand.

Bast wasn't quite sure she liked it, not yet.

Thoth and Anubis seemed to have taken to it well enough, and while the others had come with them, some time when the first prayer sounded on this distant soil to one of their kind, Bast could only smell them faintly on the wind now.

Anubis had plenty of work, of course, and Thoth had found ways of keeping himself busy that kept him close to the other two.

She was sure that's why the others had vanished - had gone home? Because while she occasionally wandered, explored this new land and everything in it, she always came back to her nephews in this new Cairo, in this new land.

The new land was boring, more often than not. The Serpent had come with them, when they all first came over; a product of there always being those foolish enough to call on him and give themselves to him. Anubis had found their hearts lacking soon enough, and had them devoured. But The Serpent wasn't here anymore, and neither was their father. There were no more battles in the night. She couldn't remember the last time her father took her with him as he sailed under the world to battle.

Even her other self, her other half, the part of her that was the lioness, had gone home.

But there were these new things to play with - these new things that called themselves gods, thought of themselves as gods.

They were fun. Like small mice, that squeaked and ran around in blind panic as she batted with her paw, hissed, pounced, played with them until they got boring. They always got boring. Too much like mice, really, small enough and fast enough to provide entertainment for a small while, but not enough of a challenge to hold her attention.

She walked more often in her other form, her four-footed self. Women here were stiff and grey. They wore too many clothes, and those who didn't have such notions looked to other gods. Most of the women shrieked when she walked among them, which was fun sometimes - but they were like mice, too, and they also got boring. So she went as a cat.

And tonight, on the longest night, she longed in her heart for home.

Anubis felt it first, as she knew he would; he weighed hearts, and to him was given the gift to look into them. "What troubles you, my mother's sister?"

Bast sighed at him, stretched, her ears laid flat on her head. It is boring here, she told him. It is cold and there are too few prayers to answer, and I must wear too many clothes and there is no battle.

"There are prayers enough," Anubis said.

And that was it, after all. That was why they were here in this cold, boring, flat gray land, where there was no Serpent and the rest of their kin had left them. Because there were still those who looked to them for guidance, and who cried out to her to vanquish the Serpent in the night and lead her father above the edge of the world with her cat-sight.

Well enough, she said, and bounded into the night.

There were always battles. She just might have to work harder to find them.

 


End file.
